My eyes traveled to the door he had just locked, but he shook his head without my having to say anything. “Not that way.”
When his eyes moved significantly toward my dressing room, I shook my head fast, my hands coming up defensively in front of me. It had been far too many years since I had clambered down the vines. And I used to wear shorter skirts in those days.
“It’s the only way, Snow,” he said.
My eyes snapped back to his, my nickname on his lips telling me more than any of his other words. He was serious, and he was scared.
“There’s no time for explanations,” he added. “Do you trust me?”
I looked at his face, so strong for someone so young—the opposite of mine—and didn’t have to think about my answer.
“Of course I do.”
“Then pack anything you absolutely need. But hurry.”
His final words broke the spell holding my feet in place, and I flew through my rooms. My mind wanted to speculate on what could be driving him, but I forced myself to think about what essentials to pack instead. All too soon I had filled the small leather satchel he thrust into my hands. I closed it with a longing gaze at the pile of books beside my bed. I knew well enough what he would say if I tried to claim them as essential packing.
I had barely fastened it when he lifted the bag from my hands, slinging it over his own shoulder. I made no protest. Not if we were really going down the vines.
We both squeezed into the dressing room, Alexander closing the door behind us despite it having no lock. I peered out the window. I was sure it hadn’t been so far down last time I did this.
Someone—presumably Alexander—had left a lantern on the ground just below my window. It simultaneously cast enough light to illuminate a terrifying drop, and too little light to highlight any sure footholds. I looked back at him and licked my lips, hoping he would relent and tell me there was another way.
“I’m sorry, Snow.” The words were quiet but sincere. “I daren’t…” He took a breath. “Have faith in yourself. You’ve done this before, you can do it again.”
I peered out again. “That was a long time ago.”
“It works just the same,” he said, gently edging me to the side and swinging one leg over the stone sill. “I’ll go first. If you slip, I’ll catch you.”
I appreciated his words, although I doubted the vines would allow him a strong enough purchase for such a thing. But I thrust the doubt from my mind. It wouldn’t help with what apparently had to be done.
As soon as he disappeared from view, I hoisted up my skirts, tying them well up my legs as I used to do so long ago. At least my boots were sturdy, the most practical item I owned.
I swung one leg over and adjusted my grip, looking quickly down to check Alexander had descended low enough to allow me to clamber all the way out. He had paused, his disapproving eyes on my leg.
“Oh, please,” I hissed at him. “You try doing this in skirts.”
A brief smile crossed his face, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he made no protest. Reluctantly, I swung the other leg out and draped my waist across the sill, my feet seeking a foothold among the vines.
I found one quickly, the thick growth reassuringly solid beneath my toes. Letting myself slide down, I found purchases among the greenery for my hands. Once I had a solid grip, I pulled one foot free, questing lower for another foothold. Slowly, step by step, I descended.
And as I went I became more confident, even moving a little more quickly. For all it had been years, my body still remembered how to do this, checking each hold before committing my weight. I remembered that you didn’t find new hand and footholds with your eyes—the reason why a single lantern was enough.
I smiled, almost exhilarated by the old feeling of freedom that rushed through me. Twisting, I looked over my shoulder and down, seeking Alexander. He had kept pace just below me, but my eyes swept over him, instinctively seeking the ground below.
I had expected it to be closer, and the expanse of open air made me gasp and wobble. I instinctively clutched for the vines, but the movement only dislodged me further. I felt my feet slip and managed to gasp Alex’s name before my weight jerked against my hands, ripping the vines free from my grasp.
I fell, scrabbling at the greenery, seeking a new purchase—any purchase—but they slid by too quickly.
Until another, harder jerk, stopped my fall, wrenching my shoulder so hard that tears sprang to my eyes. Alexander’s firm grip encircled my wrist, his other hand tangled among the vines. But even as I looked up at him, I saw them begin to separate from the wall, unable to hold our combined weight.
Seeing my fear reflected in the gray of his eyes galvanized me to action, and I swung myself against the wall, seeking for a safe hold with both feet and my free hand. One foot found grip first, followed by my fingers as they curled around a particularly gnarled root.
I felt the instant easing of pressure in my shoulder, and Alexander must have felt it, too.
“Are you—?”
I nodded up at him, and he slowly released his grip, pulling off one finger at a time as if reluctant to let go. I clung to the vine, drawing shaky breaths as the rush of panic subsided somewhat. I couldn’t stay here, though. I needed to make it the rest of the way down. And I was beneath Alexander now. He couldn’t catch me again.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to move. Nothing happened.
“Snow?” Alexander’s soft voice above me unlocked my limbs. He wouldn’t leave me here, but he couldn’t carry me down, either. Which meant I had to get us down this wall.
Slowly one foot pulled loose and slid down. Only when it was firmly in a new place did the other foot follow. The rest of the descent was accomplished at a snail’s pace, and I could feel tension radiating off Alexander. But he said nothing to rush me, matching each of his movements to mine.
I didn’t look down again, so when my reaching foot felt solid earth, it caught me by surprise. I let go, collapsing down to sprawl in the dirt. I had never been so grateful to feel firm ground beneath me.
Alexander leaped down from above me, landing elegantly on his feet. He looked around, his eyes scanning the nearby trees. Obviously whatever he saw satisfied him, because he doused the lantern before turning to offer me a hand. I took it, relief making me smile up at him with almost giddy abandon despite our strange situation.
After he’d pulled me to my feet, he didn’t let go, dragging me behind him as he started off into the trees. I stumbled as I tried to keep pace, and he slowed slightly but didn’t stop. I abandoned any hope that he might explain now that we were out of the castle. Clearly he wanted to get further away.
We ran, ducking between trees in the darkness. But how did he intend us to get past the wall? Unlike the front of the castle, where only a courtyard stood between the building and the castle wall, my rooms faced onto the back where previous generations of my ancestors had allowed a small wood to grow up in the large space between the back of the castle and the wall.
When we were young, we had crawled through a small drain, splashing through the tiny creek that it had been built for. A loose grate had made it the perfect means of escape. But while I might have some hope of squeezing through that way still, one glance at Alexander’s broad shoulders ruled out the possibility. And if he tried to send me through on my own, without explanation, he would soon discover my limits.
But he didn’t lead us toward the grate, a route that to my surprise remained familiar, even in the dark and after so many years. Instead he led us to a small wooden door, grandly named the south gate. I blinked in the low light of the torch at the gate, bright after the darkness of the trees. But I could see no sign of any guards.
I frowned, looking around again as Alexander tugged me closer. He didn’t slow, clearly not fearing anyone would be there to raise an alarm. When we stepped out into the open, I saw why. Two figures slumped against the wall, their weapons sprawled uselessly beside their still fingers.
/>
I wrenched my hand from Alexander’s, stepping toward them, but his words stopped me.
“They’re alive. Leave them.”
One gave a loud snore, as if to corroborate his words, and I stopped. Biting my lip, I looked between Alexander and the guards. He had been here before, then, clearing our path somehow.
Even I knew better than to try to stop for explanations at this point. Alexander pulled open the gate, and I followed, stepping aside as he closed and locked it behind us, placing the key in his pocket. The woods appeared to continue south unbroken, thickening to a true forest, but I knew the sight was deceptive. Only a thin band of forest reached around the southern side of the castle. The true depths of it lay to the west.
And, sure enough, Alexander took only a few strides before turning sharply right and heading due west. We were heading away from the city—which lay on the other side of the castle, stretching out from the main gates and away to the north and east—and into the trees.
I stumbled along behind him, too focused on not losing my footing in the darkness to pant out any questions. We would have to stop eventually, and once we did I was refusing to start again until I understood exactly what was going on.
Only we kept going and going and going. All too soon my aching legs reminded me that it had been far too long since my old days of running after my father and Alex. Endless hours beside a sick bed had done little to prepare me for this nighttime flight through the woods.
Roots appeared from nowhere, sending me stumbling again and again. Alexander—sure in his own strides as he led the way—always seemed to be there, though, his arm ready to steady me before I actually toppled over. But as I grew more and more tired, I faltered more and more often. The hoot of an owl, or the flash of the moon through a sudden hole in the canopy, were enough to unbalance me, even without the unsteady footing.
Our pace slowed even more, and finally Alexander seemed to realize I could go no further. With a whispered word, and a firm hand under my elbow, he directed me through a gap in the trees and into a small clearing where a shallow cave—little more than a crevice in the rock—gave us somewhere to rest.
The summer air was warm enough even at night to mean a shelter wasn’t necessary, but I was grateful to have solid stone at my back and somewhere to lean my exhausted head. I let my eyes flutter shut, but the unfamiliar sounds of the forest soon drove them open again, my heart beating an uncomfortable rhythm.
I found Alexander watching me. I expected him to look away when I met his gaze, as he so often did these days, but he held steady. Something in the grave concern I saw reflected in his face unnerved me as much as his open fear had done earlier.
I realized it had been more than exhaustion which prevented me asking questions sooner. A deep reluctance for the answers had held me back. More cowardice in the face of my new fatherless reality. I had longed to flee—even considering running to the Marinese princesses—and then my childhood friend had let me do it without feeling the sting of responsibility for my actions. Something deep inside me had wanted to hold onto the idea that we were simply on an adventure, as we might have done so many years ago.
But I was no longer a child. And I could not flee my responsibilities, however much I longed to be free from the place where every stone reminded me of my father. It was time for some answers, however unpleasant.
“You asked me to trust you, and I have,” I said. “Now you need to tell me what in the kingdoms is going on.”
He looked away at last, his hands rising and then falling uselessly beside him. His mouth opened and then closed, his jaw tightening.
What was so hard for him to say? I tried to think of a way to help him tell the story he so clearly didn’t want to speak aloud.
“Where are we going?”
Alexander had always been practical and so capable. Focusing on the plan might settle him now. But instead his head shot up, his eyes once more flashing to mine, and he let out a quickly stifled bark of laughter. One without humor.
“I don’t know. Away, I suppose.”
I shivered, trying to hide the involuntary movement from him. No plan? I didn’t know what to do with that information. After several moments of my heart thumping against my chest, I tried again.
“Away from what?”
“That woman.” He spat the words, his whole face darkening.
“My stepmother?” I longed to be away from her every day, but that wasn’t a reason for a sudden flight through my window. “What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath, his eyes on the forest around us, alert and watchful.
“I wanted to return as soon as I heard, and Princess Celine could tell, I think…”
I frowned. What did Prince Oliver of Eldon’s betrothed have to do with this? I tried to puzzle it through.
“Did you discover something in Eldon? Some threat?” He hadn’t mentioned it when we spoke earlier in the day.
“No. Well…yes. But that’s not…” He sighed and looked at me, an apology in his eyes. “I’m not doing well at this.”
“Just start at the beginning.”
He looked away again, angling his face so that I couldn’t see it.
“I was in Eldon, as you know, and due to remain there until the royal wedding, although I longed to be back here.” He swallowed. “When we received word of your father’s passing, I knew I couldn’t stay there. I had to get back to…” His eyes flashed to me and then away again too quickly for me to read their expression.
“Princess Celine saw my desire to return, I think. And she has a kind heart.”
A stab of jealousy shot through me, but I pushed it away and tried to focus on his words.
“We had just learned of the escape of a prisoner. One involved in the enchantment that has gripped Eldon until recently. They believe he may have escaped into Eliam, so she sent me back with an urgent message of warning.”
He still wouldn’t meet my eyes as he continued. “After that performance in the throne room, it seemed obvious that the Eldonian royals would expect me to deliver the message to Queen Alida. So earlier this evening I went to the royal suite to deliver it to her. And I overheard her talking.”
My eyes narrowed as I watched the little bit of his profile I could see. An unlikely sounding story. Especially the part where he just happened to be there to hear an important conversation.
“You mean you found some way to eavesdrop on my stepmother with the message as an excuse for your presence if you got caught. And now you don’t want to admit that because you know I’ll be angry at you for putting yourself in danger.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, but a smug look crossed his face that told me all I needed to know. The expression quickly fell away, however, as he continued his story.
“She was expecting you to arrive shortly. And she was giving orders to that blackguard henchman of hers.”
I didn’t have to ask who he meant. Alexander hated Randolph nearly as much as I did.
“What sort of orders?” I had to work to keep my voice from trembling, even now with so much distance separating me from the castle.
“Orders of the worst kind. I knew then that I had to get to you and run. As far and fast as we could. And so, here we are—without a plan.”
I sat up straight, indignation driving away my lingering fear. “Oh no, you don’t, Alexander Huntsman! I know that you’re only trying to protect me, but those orders clearly had to do with me, and I have a right to know what they are.”
When he looked over at me, reluctance clear in every line of his face, I fixed him with my sternest glare. “I deserve to know the truth. I need to know the truth.”
He seemed to deflate, and I could see that it hurt him even to say the words, but I held firm.
“She was giving orders to Randolph to kill you. Tonight.”
Chapter 4
I gasped, my hand flying to my throat. “Kill me? Are you sure?” It seemed a stupid question, but I couldn’t help it
spilling from my mouth. I knew she disliked me and wanted to see me married off, but I hadn’t suspected her of assassination.
A look of something—horror, perhaps, or disgust—filled his eyes. “There was no mistaking it.”
I bit my lip, my voice dropping but not wavering. “You have to tell me everything.”
His jaw tightened again, his whole posture going rigid. “She said too many at court remained sympathetic toward you.”
I snorted—she had apparently seen a different court today from what I saw—but he ignored me.
“She said that it was one thing now while you were underage, but she didn’t trust them not to make a fuss in the future. And then she said that if she was to get rid of you, it needed to be now, when it seemed most plausible.”
“Plausible?” I cried in outrage. “I don’t believe even the court would find killing her own stepdaughter plausible!”
“No, of course not.” He shook his head. “Which is why she needed some way to make it look like an accident. Something entirely beyond her control.”
I frowned. “In her own chambers? Plausible is still not the word that comes to mind.”
He sighed. “No, it wasn’t to happen in her chambers.” He bit his lip and gestured around at the surrounding forest. “It was to happen out here.”
For one wild, unthinking moment my mind—still reeling from his revelation—became unhinged, and I had to force myself not to scramble away from him. My stepmother had ordered me brought into the forest and murdered, and I had followed without question.
But another second, another heartbeat, brought clarity. Alexander would never hurt me. He had brought me out here to save me, not to kill me. I swallowed, waiting until I felt sure my voice wouldn’t tremble.
“So Randolph was to drag me out here and kill me. And she would make it look like…what?”
He swallowed, his hands fisting so tightly the tendons stood out along his arms. “He was to make it look like you had been attacked and killed by wild animals. Partially eaten—although she warned him to ensure you were still recognizable. He was to…he was to bring her your lungs and your liver before sunrise. Proof he had completed the task.”
A Dream of Ebony and White: A Retelling of Snow White (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 4) Page 3